Regrets
by Aletta-Feather
Summary: Set after series 3. Martha has disappeared and Clive is broken hearted. He bonds with a dying Billy over their mutual grief. Will they ever see Martha again? One-shot.


Regrets

Martha had disappeared. She had not even helped Jake to assist Billy. Ever since that night, Clive had been in a constant state of hyper-vigilance: every sound set him on edge and his mind kept going over various horrifying scenarios. Her phone had been found in the water but there had been no trace of Martha herself anywhere. Her house had been searched, but she hadn't appeared there since.

His victory seemed so unimportant right now, even thinking about it felt like a betrayal to her. Harriet had been distant too. Apparently he hadn't acted like a good host on his big night. Martha's disappearance had not startled her nearly as much and that cold fact had made him look at her with different eyes. She was so unaffected by it that he wondered if she even had a heart. How could he have been so wrong about her?

His new duties really took their toll, as did the sleepless nights… Every other night, he would finally fall asleep at the break of dawn, completely exhausted. These nights would bring no relief however, as his dreams were soaked with her image. He'd wake up bewildered and afraid, often needing a few moments to remember why he felt that way…

In the meantime—it had been nearly two weeks—Billy was getting sicker and sicker. Clive visited him when he could. Billy had moved to a hospice, his many relatives had wanted to look after him, but he preferred this option. Billy wanted to stay his own man, besides, he would certainly have offended whoever he didn't choose to stay with… This was far better for everyone involved.

In a strange twist of fate, Clive had grown closer to Billy. They only ever talked about Martha, both of them so very worried. Clive couldn't imagine Martha being so cruel as to let Billy die without her, yet she really hadn't been herself lately. The guilt was overwhelming…

How could he have missed this? Martha was hard to read sometimes. She did have the occasional mood swing, but still…. They had been quite close, and for so long too….

"She still hasn't shown?" Clive asked when he entered Billy's room. Billy's sad eyes answered for him as he shook his head. He looked rather pale, Clive thought.

"I haven't heard anything either…" he said as he found himself a chair. "Her relatives haven't heard from her… The police can't find anything…" He balled his fists in frustration. "And we never even got the chance to talk… to…" His voice faltered as Billy grabbed his hand.

"I know.. I know…" he whispered. "I miss her too…" He went into a coughing fit and Clive helped him to sit up.

"If only I knew where to look…" Clive lamented. "She's not in Bolton. I've checked the hotels and everything, relatives she occasionally mentioned. Of course, she could have used a different name…" The thought only now occurred to him.

"And your work? You must be busy with all the changes…"

"I'm far too 'obsessed,' she calls it… with Martha. I keep on checking things I remember and, well…"

"The harpy…?" Billy asked.

Clive involuntary laughed. It had a nice ring to it. Harriet the Harpy…

"I can't believe I even liked her…"

"She'd set her mind on you, that much was clear from the beginning…"

"She got her way… and… perhaps… at the expense of…" Clive had to swallow down a sob. He really was done for.

"I refuse to believe she would give up so easily…" he heard Billy say about Martha. "She was upset, for sure, but to… Not Martha!" The thought of Martha choosing death whereas he had to face it was just too much to bear.

"It can't be…" he mumbled angrily. "It can't…"

"It's what everyone thinks…" Clive argued hesitantly. "It's what they're not saying out loud… She should have been found by now though…"

He didn't believe it himself. Clive knew it was possible to disappear. After all, that's what criminals did all the time… They'd disappear or make others, bodies, disappear. Suicides were generally found, but what if she didn't want to be found? She would have found a solution… Martha was smart like that.

* * *

"It won't be long now…" one of the nurses told Clive when he visited again a few days later. He had been late for a trial, hopelessly inadequate at handling the case, and this was a horrible end to an already lousy, awful day.

"Billy?" he asked, seeing the old clerk lying with his eyes closed. "Is this a good time?" He sat at his seat, on the right side of Billy's bed. It was the most comfortable seat in a room filled with rickety chairs.

"What is the time?"

"Nearly seven…"

"You're early…"

Clive didn't reply immediately. Yes, he was early. He hadn't been in the mood for a drink at the pub. Not with any of the Shoe Lane crowd, nor with Nicola who was becoming increasingly unhappy at his making a mess of his current cases.

"Wanted to make it an early night…" he said, trying to keep his tone light. He was just about to ask if Billy had had other visitors that day, when he heard some stumbling outside the room.

"You're not allowed in!" he heard an angry nurse say. "He's too fragile… One visitor at the time! You'll have to wait your turn…"

"Oh, he'll want to see me…" A woman's voice said angrily, as she nearly shoved the nurse aside.

Billy opened his eyes in shock as Clive rose from his seat. The door opened with a loud bang.

There, as solid as a James Bond silhouette, stood Martha.

"Billy!" Martha flung to his bedside, kneeling next to Billy's bed, and seemed not to notice him, Clive. She grabbed Billy's left hand as she hid her head in his bed coverings, sobbing loudly.

"I thought you were dead…" she whispered.

"So did I," Billy replied softly. His eyes alight as he stroked her back. "But we're still here…. The both of us, soldiering on…" He smiled as he looked at Clive. "And we're not alone either," he said, bringing Clive to her attention.

Martha looked up. Her make-up was smeared out over her face, yet Clive had never seen a lovelier sight. She tried to brush away her tears. "Clive…"

Clive didn't know what to say. Anger and happiness were struggling for space in his chest. "Martha.." he said with gritted teeth. "Martha… How could you?!"

Her lips began to tremble. "I… I don't know…. I'm sorry…" she said, her voice heavy and her accent strong with emotion. "I just… It felt as if my world was falling apart…. Everything I knew and loved…. It was all slipping away, like water through my hands…"

"Where have you been? What have you done?" Clive shouted, firing the questions like accusations.

"We've been searching everywhere for you…" Billy pitched in. "They found your phone in the water. We all assumed the worst…"

The nurse came bustling in. "What on earth is going on here?! I must urge you to leave immediately."

Clive try to assuage her. "I'll go," he said. "I'll see you again tomorrow, Billy. And you…" He looked at Martha. "I'll be waiting outside for you…."

Martha nodded silently. She deserved to be scolded…

* * *

With nothing to do but wait, Clive wished he still smoked…. He could inform the others of Martha's return, but was loath to do so. Perhaps she wanted to make an entry like that everywhere else as well, he thought grimly. He'd soon have the answers….

Martha explained to Billy what had happened. It hadn't been a conscious choice. She'd jumped on the bus as she threw her phone away. She hadn't seen him collapse in the street, as she was watching her phone go under. For hours, she sat in night busses, simply driving around. Wondering if she should indeed follow her phone….

Sean's case, feeling homesick, wondering if Shoe Lane would remain her home: it had been too much…

"I've just been… wandering… Went to the beach to clear my head… Been up North to feel home again… That failed miserably…" Martha laughed bitterly. "I just don't belong anywhere anymore…" she said, tears falling again…

Billy squeezed her hand softly. "You belong with me, Miss," he said, "and if you don't mind me saying so… with him…" Billy pointed to the seat that Clive had vacated.

Martha nearly snorted. "With Clive?" she said scathingly. "He's the one who kicked me out! And she's got him all wrapped around her finger…"

"I think you'll find that particular situation changed a bit…" Billy smirked. "Just talk to him," he urged her, "if only to please a dying man…"

"Don't say that…" Martha begged.

"You've never been afraid of the truth," he replied, "don't start now…"

* * *

Martha slowly walked outside. Billy had told her that Clive had been feeling just as gutted as he himself. That he hardly slept at all. Martha privately agreed that he didn't look quite his peachy old self. Neither did see, come to think of it…

"Clive?" she called.

He abruptly turned around, looking her straight in the eye. "You didn't take that long…" he said, a little taken aback.

"Billy needs to rest now.." she said, hurt. "He's gotten a lot worse…"

Martha swallowed hard. A part of her wondered if her disappearance was the reason… Rationally she knew it couldn't be her fault, but it certainly felt that way. She felt like fleeing if Clive would begin accusing her again…

"At least you came back in time," he said, stretching out his hand, reaching for hers.

Martha teared up again, as she hesitantly took it. Clive pulled her in, literally swiping her of her feet. She stumbled into his arms in the most inelegant manner, but he didn't notice it. He kissed her hard, eagerly. Confirming that she was alive. That they were here, in this moment, together.

"Sorry," he said afterwards. "I… I'm just so relieved…" He sighed heavily. "To see you again…"

"I'm the one who should apologize," Martha replied. "I'm so, so sorry. I didn't think you'd all be so upset… I just didn't think at all…" She shook her head in unbelief. "I must have been out of my mind…."

"Perhaps you were in shock… or burnt out…" he offered kindly. "So much happening at the same time… Some of it my fault…" He looked worried, a little afraid she would have a go at him.

"Will you come with me? In the morning?" she asked. Martha didn't like to face the Shoe Lane crowd alone.

"Of course, always…" he replied, a smile tugging at his lips. "Pub?" he asked, his eyes smiling…

"If you pick up the check…" she said. "I'm going to drink all the courage I can get…"

"You best come back to my place afterwards," he responded slyly. "The police have still sealed off yours…"

* * *

The following days had been quite vexing, but Clive had been a great support. He functioned like a bodyguard, keeping nosy people away from her. He reminded Martha a bit of Billy that way, always looking out for her best interests.

Her position at Shoe Lane had become obsolete. Martha was still heart-broken over it, but in light of her actions perhaps it was for the best. The news of her nervous breakdown travelled fast however, and finding a new chambers wouldn't be an easy task. Martha was still unsure if she should continue her career in law… but couldn't imagine another way to live either.

She spent most of her days talking to Billy, bringing back old memories, remembering the old days. Shoe Lane would never be the same without him. Martha's life wouldn't be the same…

Clive's work had improved overnight. With Martha back in his life, though in what capacity he didn't know yet, he felt on top of the world again. He managed to turn around some of his cases at the last minute, pleasing both Nicola and Harriet in one stroke.

Martha had been staying with him until the police had given Martha her keys back. He had been longing to ask her to stay, forever even, but had bitten his tongue. He had no idea what Martha really felt and thought, and he didn't want to take advantage of the situation. Nor did he want her to feel like he had.

It felt so good, having her back, even if she didn't work at Shoe Lane anymore. Clive missed seeing her around, yet the idea of being her superior didn't feel right either. Not if he wanted her to be something else…

* * *

Billy died a week after Martha's return. It had been a full week, a good one, despite everything. The funeral had a large turn-out as many liked and respected Billy. His send-off was worthy of him and for that Martha was grateful. Their last conversations kept spinning inside her head.

Billy had urged her to find herself a new chambers. A fresh start, new faces… He had also told her to talk to Clive. As in actually, really talk to him. Martha hadn't yet. She didn't know where to begin!

Martha lived between hope and fear. Billy and Clive hadn't always been great palls, but had always found a common ground in their love and care for her. Her disappearance had only strengthened their bond in that regard. Both men had opened up to each other, driven to do so in her absence.

In his last days, Billy had been trying to play Cupid. It was a funny thing… He'd been matching barristers and solicitors all his life, but this was a different game altogether. Getting two stubborn people together…. People who for some reason believed they didn't match….

Billy thought it had been obvious that they did… Sure Clive was a push-over when it came to seduction by pretty women, but perhaps Martha's continued 'no' had played a part in that. He hadn't settled down… clearly indicating he was waiting for someone to settle down with… Someone unavailable. Someone who resembled Elizabeth I in rejecting all of her suitors.

It was a stupid misunderstanding, Billy thought. Clive being a player, Martha not trusting him because of it… Never for one moment wondering why he didn't pursue more serious relationships. The man was jealous of everyone who was even remotely interested in Martha Costello. Like Sean…

Now that Billy was gone, it was up to the two of them… He had tried persuading them, both of them to take the first step… Question was: whose stubborn head would crack first? Or would neither of them give in?

* * *

Martha was getting ready for an interview at her third set of chambers. So far she hadn't been lucky, but this one seemed promising. They did a lot of defence work, were small but ambitious, and looking for a QC to add more gun power to their name. She would be a big catch for them, and she'd have a real shot at becoming Head of Chambers relatively soon.

The phone rang. It was Clive, wishing her luck. She smiled at his encouraging words, knowing that he still felt guilty over her losing her job. Martha looked in the mirror. She looked like her old self again… and slowly began to feel that way too…

"We'll get back to you…" Martha was escorted out of the room. The interview had gone well, although they did ask about her break-down. Her overall feeling was good. The atmosphere was a little less formal, like Shoe Lane in the old days. Martha rather liked that. She could feel at home here, perhaps…

* * *

Clive was anxiously waiting for Martha's news. He hoped she would get in… It would lift his guilty burden quite a bit…

Apart from sleeping at his place for a few days, as in falling asleep in exhaustion, he and Martha hadn't had a chance to see each other. So much was still left unsaid…

The phone call startled him. It was Martha and she was in! She'd been accepted and would begin the following Monday. Martha sounded elated and Clive felt a huge sense of relief. It was over! This would hopefully be a new beginning…

They agreed to meet for diner somewhere quiet. Clive's heart beat rapidly in his chest. Dreaded anticipation filled his being. They still behaved somewhat awkwardly around each other…

After arriving nearly simultaneously, they quickly found a quiet spot, overlooking the restaurant's garden. Clive rose his glass in a toast. "Here's to Martha, and her new job." Martha laughed as they clung their glasses. She made a toast in return, to Clive and his new position, and they took another sip.

"Like old times," Clive said with a sheepish grin. It wasn't entirely true as they hadn't often been out to diner like this…. Grabbing something at the pub was a little different after all.

"Feels like it…" she agreed. She sighed when she wondered out loud: "Do you think it will ever be like before…?"

Before her vanishing into the night, before the verdict that put away an old flame, before Billy's death… Or even earlier, when they were still pupils, competitive but not in each other's way too much…

Clive swallowed hard. "I'm not sure…" he replied hesitantly. "It will probably never be the same… but it might become even better…"

"Their chambers…. I should say my new set, feels like… almost like Shoe Lane nostalgia… Like when we were still relatively small, ambitious to grow…"

"Did you miss that?"

"A bit.. I think. With defence being less and less important, and money beginning to play an increasingly larger role in taking on things… instead of the riskier, but perhaps more interesting cases…"

"Still an idealist at heart…" Clive quipped, only a little annoyed. Wasn't it strange how the things you loved about someone were simultaneously the things you hated? Clive loved Martha's fire and spirit, her compassion, but they could also be really frustrating… He didn't know if it was jealousy, or guilt maybe? Wanting to be like that, knowing your not, and despising it for one's ego's sake?

"It's ambition too, though," Martha said. "Riskier cases are more likely to be lost, not bringing in as much money and perhaps a bad name if it happens too often…. On the other hand, they have the potential of being precedent-setting and therefore historical."

"Not just saintly motives then…" Clive was feeling a lot better already.

Martha's eyes narrowed. "I never said I was a saint," she snapped.

Clive put his hands in the air to lighten the mood. "Don't shoot… No need to bite my head off.."

If heaven existed, and Billy had gone there, Martha wondered, what would he be thinking now? Not that she really believed in such things. Here they were talking about cases, and law, but never a mention of the two of them… Were they were at. If they even were a they…

Instead they were quibbling again, all in good humor, but still… It was as if they couldn't even address it… She decided to make an attempt, if only for Billy's sake.

Martha coughed and said: "Billy said you two had been talking a lot…"

"Yes, yeah…" Clive fell silent. "Yeah, we did."

"About me…" she pushed a little further… "Worried, but also… well, more than that."

So this was it, Clive thought. They were actually going to go there…

"I was worried.." he began, "that I was too late… That I'd left it too long… I tried hard, you know, getting your attention, but it never really seemed to work…"

"And then there was Sean.." Martha understood.

"And Harriet," Clive acknowledged.

"Always someone in the way, isn't there?" she sighed. "Do you think it's a bad omen?"

Clive smiled. "You don't believe that one bit…"

"No," she agreed, "but there is generally something there, stopping one of us, or both of us…"

"Usually you…" he mumbled.

"That's not fair!" Martha flared up. "Whenever I tried, there was always someone else who got there first…"

"I know… I know.." he said dramatically. "What can I do?" Clive shrugged his shoulders, clearly indicating that his charm wasn't his fault…

"Not do that.." she began. "Dismiss it, like it's nothing.. A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do and all that crap!"

"So you are jealous too!" Clive cut right through her argument… "You're giving me flack for the whole Sean thing, but you're just the same…"

"Perhaps," she replied, unwilling to give in even more…

"There's no perhaps about it," he said stubbornly. "We're both just really pathetic that way…" He took a large gulp of his wine, as Martha began to laugh.

"We really are, aren't we..?" she snorted. "And to think that Billy, of all people, felt he needed to fix it…"

"He talked to you too then," Clive gathered.

"Preach, more like.. On and on it went," she giggled. "His last legacy, he said, one time… I wondered if it were the drugs in his system talking…"

"Who knew there was such a romantic stuck in there somewhere…" Clive chipped in.

"I suspected as much…" Martha said, "deeply closeted, of course…"

"No doubt…" Clive began to laugh as well.

"What a mess we've made of things…" he said, a little while later, when they'd both calmed down a bit.

"Maybe we should clean it up?" Martha said, rising her eyebrows. "I'm game, if you are?"

"Thought you'd never ask…"

* * *

Clive went back to Martha's this time. The place still looked the same as always. He couldn't remember how many times he'd visited her here, secretly hoping to get laid, never successful. Clive recalled how jealous he'd been when Daniel came back here as well, simply working, like they had been, yet it had felt like such a threat… and even a bit like a betrayal on Martha's part…

But now he was here, and if he was lucky, and it sure felt that way, he would see Martha's bedroom for the very first time… Not that it was the room that mattered, of course…

Martha had had one too many and was giggling all the way up the stairs, holding his hand, almost dragging him with her. Clive simply went along…

"Welcome," she said, a little unsteady on her feet, as she grabbed some clothes that were lying about, dumping them in the laundry basket in a corner of the room.

"Never been up here…" Clive said, stifling a laugh of his own.

"Bet you wanted to though…" Martha replied, narrowing her eyes, kicking out her shoes.

"Definitely," he said, "absolutely…"

"That's enough talking, you charmer…" Martha leaned in, and this time, it was her kissing him. Fierce and bold, taking the reins, like always…

Before he was aware of it, Clive wasn't wearing his tie anymore, nor much else for that matter.

Martha was stroking his torso, her hands slowly travelling down. He tried to move into the other position, but she roughly pushed him back. Clive wasn't used to this, his partners were often much younger and quite willing to let him lead, but it was oddly thrilling. Go with the flow, he told himself sternly. You might never get another chance….

* * *

Things were a bit awkward the following morning. Clive grinned when he woke up. He'd done it! It had been such a long time since Martha Costello had wanted him…. He fondly remembered the last time, but this time had been even better. That was promising, wasn't it?

"What you're so pleased about?" Martha's face came into his vision. "You look like you've won the lottery…"

"Perhaps I have…" he quipped back.

"My head…" she complained, "I should never have gotten that final drink…"

I'm glad you did, Clive thought, careful not to mention that out loud.

"What are your plans for today?" Clive asked. "Since you don't start 'till Monday?"

"Oh, I don't know… Just cleaning up a bit around the house, I suppose. Still a bit left to do…"

"Did the police make a mess of things?" Clive asked, hoping it was a safe enough query.

"Not so much, no… That's all me…" she grinned. "But you should know that… You've been coming here, since like forever…"

"Though not in fact, here, so much," he complained mockingly.

Martha ignored that remark and continued, "It was nice to see your place for a change… after all the times you've visited me, I don't think I ever saw your flat…"

"Did you like it?" he wondered.

"It was very you…" she replied diplomatically.

"And what precisely does that mean?" Clive asked slyly. "I want to know…" he pushed amiably.

"Just… you know… Posh, very tidy, very charming and together…. Much like yourself really…"

"Is there something wrong with that?" he asked, getting irritated.

"It's just…" Martha contemplated how to best say this… "It's just… mostly exterior, I guess… Not revealing what's underneath so much…"

"Like myself…" he gathered. "I was under the impression though, that you rather liked that… A bit of mystery… Besides, you know how I really feel…"

"Do I?" Martha asked. "Why don't you tell me? To see if I'm right?"

Clive sighed. He'd rather hoped for a nice quiet breakfast, possibly some more snogging, not another interrogation…

"Well," he began, wondering just how much he should reveal without feeling like a some sort of stalker, "I guess I've always been drawn to you… But you know that… You were so different from anybody I'd ever met before…"

He gulped for air. "But you were also a bit intimidating…" Martha rolled her eyes.

"Alright, very intimidating… I hoped I could be as good as you, but wasn't sure… And you got tenancy… and fortunately, I did too. And then you got Silk before me… Oh… I don't know… I suppose that's why I really wanted to win Head of Chambers…"

"Well, you did… You won. Congratulations." It sounded a bit sarcastic, nearly sacrilegious.

"For all the good it did me…" he mumbled. "And now, you don't even work at Shoe Lane anymore, and it's because of me…"

"It will be nice to work somewhere else, change of scenery and so on.." Martha said kindly, reaching for his hand.

"But do you really mean it?" Clive looked her straight in the eye. "Or are you just saying it for my sake?"

"Maybe I shouldn't answer that one… I might perjure myself," she joked.

"That's my point. We don't get to work together anymore, and you might secretly despise me…" he lamented.

Martha began to laugh. "I don't think you'd be sitting here if I despised you…" she said. "Come on Clive, enough with the sadness." She softly slapped his knee. "I've got a headache, and you need to be in court."

She stood up to go to the bathroom and Clive rose from the bed as well.

"Marth?" he asked, before she could leave the room. "Are we ok? I mean…. You know…" he finished lamely.

"Maybe…" Martha said, biting her lip. "It would be good for us to no longer be in competition anymore…" she suggested, "as it might leave things open for… well, other things…"

"Clear as always… My thoughts exactly though…"

Clive went to court a happy man that morning.

* * *

And so it did. Leave things open for other things…

Clive missed Martha enormously at work, yet he got to see her most evenings. They'd still go head to head inside the courtroom, but outside…. Well, outside as well.

Being with Martha was like courting the wind, stormy weather one day, soft warm breeze the next. One thing it never was… It was never dull.

Martha soon found her footing in her new chambers. She missed sharing an office with Clive, but sharing a bed instead was a pretty good exchange.


End file.
